


Daughter

by Selador



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Assassination, Assassination Plot(s), Canonical Child Abuse, Child Abuse, Discussions of Murder, F/M, Gen, Pre-Time Skip, Timeline What Timeline, about murdering your classmate's abusive father, pre hubert/byleth if you want, spoilers for bernadetta's b supports, this is purely a feel good fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador
Summary: Byleth could not allow a threat to one of her students live. And when it came to patricide, Hubert was always happy to lend a hand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written solely because I wanted desperately to be able to do something to help Bernadetta after her B support with Byleth. The text quoted from the support is from her original B support. 
> 
> I also was slightly disappointed that only Byleth and Dorothea seem to learn about Bernadetta's dad, even though every single one member of the army would absolutely kill her dad for her. Especially Hubert, who we know is great at killing dads and threatens to assassinate Byleth in their first support convo! It's a missed opportunity.

Bernadetta’s door shut with the same panicked speed of its occupant, leaving Byleth to stand there contemplating what she had just learned. She turned her student’s words over and over in her mind, looking for any better explanation for them than the most obvious. 

_ To train me to be a good, submissive wife, he'd do things like tie me to a chair and leave me there all day… _ That was difficult to misinterpret. 

Her sword hand twitched. But Byleth’s sword could do nothing to protect her student. Helplessness left a bitter taste in her mouth.

An idea bloomed in her mind. Maybe not so helpless after all.

Turning away from the dorms, Byleth strode with purpose towards the cathedral. She had last seen Hubert on the bridge, watching the pegasus knight drills, and with any luck, he would still be there.

His dark, gangly form was visible to her as soon as she’d stepped through the bridge’s large double doors. Above him, pegasus knights one by one swooped down with a lance in hand, miming a jab and evasion maneuver. Byeth considered the technique, wondering how she would counteract it with her sword. 

If she could predict the direction in which the pegasus would move to dodge, it was only a matter of swing from that side. Pegasi couldn’t fly backwards so if she dodged the jab, she could very well make the pegasus knight dodge straight into her sword. 

Hubert’s gazed on them with such intensity that Byleth had to wonder for what purpose he was observing the drills. Based on her interactions with the man so far, it was probably to better counter a pegasus knight’s attacks. As a magic-wielder, he was particularly vulnerable to them. 

“Hubert,” she called as she approached. His head turned to look towards her. He was, thankfully, alone. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Is that so, Professor?” Hubert asked, a small smirk gracing his lips. His interest was piqued. 

Unfortunately, she did not have a plan on how to make her request. She looked over her shoulder to make sure the only other people on the bridge were the guards by the doors and at the gate on the other side. This obvious check of their surroundings only proved to make Hubert give her his full attention. 

“Goodness, what could you possibly want to ask me that you don’t want company for?” Now smirking quite widely and appearing quite delighted, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Surely the Archbishop’s pet wouldn’t ask me anything _ scandalous _, would she?”

“Remember when you threatened to kill me?” she asked.

His smirk fell. “What sort of question is that?”

Obviously, he did. It was a foolish question. “What do you know about Bernadetta’s father?”

Hubert blinked. She’d surprised him. Which was only fair; she did not think through how she would ask this of him. “Bernadetta’s father is the current Count Varley. He’s the Minister of Religion, and has been… _ struggling _, for lack of a better word, with the Empire’s growing distance from the Church. He was one of the seven in the Insurrection. I have not had many personal dealings with him, as he knows he is not welcomed in Enbarr.” His eyes narrowed, searching her for any indication as to her purpose. “Is that not enough? Fine. I’ve heard rumors about his lust for money, and his dissatisfaction with having only one daughter for an heir, but that is all hearsay. You would have to ask Bernadetta for confirmation.”

Nothing that was more illuminating than Bernadetta’s own words. Byleth considered how to best approach this situation, to treat it as if it were a battle to be fought and won, but Hubert would likely see through any farce she created. Subtlety was unfortunately not one of her strengths. She decided that a direct approach would be best. If Hubert attempted to hold the information against her, she would use his own threat against him. “If you were going to assassinate Count Varley, how would you do it?” 

Hubert reeled back. A part of her that she contributed to Sothis was pleased at throwing his expectations in his face. “I beg your pardon?”

“I want to kill Bernadetta’s father,” she said, trying to force as much emotion into her voice as possible. She didn’t believe it worked. It never really worked. “You mentioned that you’ve assassinated people before. Will you help me?”

“That’s not--” he stopped abruptly, staring at her intently. His expression was neither calculating nor wary, but something new altogether. “I… see. I’m afraid I misjudged you, Professor.” Facing away from her and gazing back up to the pegasus knights, he continued, “What brought this on?”

Bernadetta wouldn’t want anyone else to know. “It’s not important.”

“Professor, while I’m perfectly willing to entertain this request of yours, I think I deserve to know _ why _ exactly you want a prominent noble of the Adrestian Empire dead.”

“He’s the reason why Bernadetta is the way she is,” Byleth answered, after a moment of internal debate. 

Hubert took that in. “Ah.”

“I want to free her of him.”

“I see.” They both fall silent as a group of priests cross over the bridge. When they’ve left, Hubert said, “Tell me, Professor, why approach me with this? I’ve made it clear I neither trust nor like you. If I report this to any of the faculty or Lady Edelgard, your arrest would be certain.”

“That didn’t stop you from threatening me,” murmured Byleth. “I’ve observed you in battle and out of it. You are not unkind to your classmates, and for all of your threats and intimidation, you take no pleasure in fighting and killing. Surely if we are to kill on the Church’s say so, a classmate’s plight would be more than enough reason to act?”

Hubert chuckled darkly. “Fair enough, Professor. Very well. Let me consider the matter, and perhaps seek more information from Bernadetta herself.”

“I don’t believe it wise for her to know,” said Byleth. 

“Perhaps not. I doubt her conscience could take it, but I merely mean to suggest that I probe her for information. If possible, of course, I’m afraid to say that she finds me rather intimidating. If it is as you say, I do believe Count Varley might meet an unfortunate accident.” Giving her a nod that clearly signaled the conversation’s end, he said, “I’ll come to you once I’m done.”

Frowning a bit, she asked, "Done speaking to Bernadetta, or..." 

He grinned with no warmth to it. "I'll see how urgent it is that Count Varley is removed from Bernadetta's life. But either way, I'll come to you with an update." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert talks to Bernadetta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh i hadn't been planning on continuing this but ideas for this possessed me
> 
> hubert is super fun to write

Approaching Bernadetta was a difficult task, even for individuals as well-meaning and harmless as Dorothea or Ferdinand. For a person such as Hubert, who utilized his appearance as an intimidation weapon just like any other, it was nigh impossible. 

However, all of the students, Bernadetta included enjoyed drinking that deplorable leaf juice with the Professor. And how fortunate that the Professor’s handwriting was easy to imitate. With just a few practice notes to ensure his mimicry was passable enough to fool Bernadetta, Hubert only had to slide the note under her door and wait.

Hubert arrived thirty minutes early to ensure to claim the table in the gardens the Professor always took tea with her guests. He spent fifteen of those minutes checking for any eavesdroppers nearby, but Hubert did have to give credit where credit was due; the Professor’s preferred table was in an ideal spot for privacy. 

Was that intentional on her part? Hubert had to think so. The Professor was unbearable vigilant of her surroundings and considerate of others. But for which reason did she seek privacy during her tea time? Vigilance of potential threats or consideration of her guests? Both would be the most logical, and there was no reason why she would intend for one and not the other. 

A few minutes before Bernadetta was set to arrive, Hubert heated up the water and began steeping the tea which is when she showed up. 

She squeaked when she saw him, and Hubert indicated the chair across from him. “Please, sit down, Bernadetta.”

“I--I--I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me!” she cried out, and he winced at her volume. Best nip this in the bud.

“I have no intention of killing you. Please sit.” 

She didn’t budge. “Where’s the Professor?”

“The Professor did not ask you to tea. I did because I wanted--”

She shrieked and this time Hubert did flinch. “YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME!”

How naive of him to think this method would attract less attention than breaking down her door. “Bernadetta!” he snapped. “Despite how ill you think of me, I do  _ not _ make a habit of killing my allies for no reason! Now,  _ please _ , sit down!”

She sat, stunned to compliance. Hubert had lost track of how much time was passing during that exchange, and no longer knew if the tea had steeped for long enough, or for too long. Not that either one could possibly make the tea  _ worse, _ but there was a proper way of brewing tea. 

Well, he couldn’t afford the time of waiting for the tea to steep any more, regardless. He poured them both a cup. Sliding her tea cup to her, Hubert said, “Here you are, enjoy.”

Bernadetta stared at the cup like she expected poison. Hubert sighed, and took a sip of his tea when her head snapped up to his face. “See? Not poisoned. Please, give me some credit. I wouldn’t go through all of this trouble to poison you. I really do just want to talk.”

Hands visibly trembling, which made Hubert frown, Bernadetta took a small sip. “Oh--oh, honey-fruit blend! How did you know that I like this tea?”

“Ferdinand,” he answered. She seemed confused, so he explained, “The Professor asked him for advice on everyone’s favorites. I happened to be in the room at the time.”

A crease formed on her brow. “... how did Ferdinand know my favorite tea?”

That… was an excellent question. Hubert made a mental note to investigate further. “That is a question for Ferdinand.” He held out a small cake as a peace offering. “Would you like some cake?” 

Bernadetta’s shoulders tensed visibly and he knew he had erred. “What do you want with me, Hubert?”

Clearly, his attempts to set her at ease were lacking. To the point, then. “I was hoping to ask you about your father,” he said. She flinched at the mention of her father. He tallied a point in favor of the Professor’s suggestion. 

“Wh--wha--what about my father?” Her stammering was much more pronounced now. He hesitated, and then added a second tally. 

“He is the current Minister of Religion,” he said, measured and even, “and yet, in my observations here, you do not put much stock into the Church or religion in general. It would behoove me to know more about how House Varley views itself and its relationship to religion?” He took a sip of his tea. The taste of honey overpowered any fruit that might have been in the tea, and the end result was a rather sickly mouthfeel. “Especially as you are his heir. Where do you see the future of House Varley?”

“I--I--” Her eyes darted between him and the area around them, seemingly scanning for threats. Or perhaps an escape route. He tried not to let a frown show on his face. If she did suddenly run, he’d have to find another way to conduct this investigation. It wouldn’t do to  _ chase _ her. She swallowed, eyes focusing on him. “Whoever I marry will become the next Count Varley.”

Hubert felt a frown tugging on his mouth, despite his efforts to keep his expression acceptably neutral. “Certainly, but if you do not marry before you inherit your father’s title, you will become the Minister of Religion and assume his duties.” Granted, if that all took place after Lady Edelgard’s plans came to fruition, Bernadetta may very well be deemed unsuitable for the position, if they even had a Minister of Religion at all in the future Lady Edelgard dreamed of. 

But as Hubert had repeatedly stressed to Lady Edelgard, changes at the scope she wanted took time, effort, and an exceptionally delicate hand. Hubert would do all he could to make her dreams reality, even as she chose to make the changes in the fastest--and  _ riskiest _ \--route possible. If successful, they would require trusted allies to assist in the implementation and stabilization of their new system. 

Bernadetta, despite her rather fearful disposition, was a highly skilled archer and valuable ally to have on the battlefield. Lady Edelgard seemed rather fond of the girl as well, for whatever reason. Hubert would admit that as far as his classmates go, Bernadetta was one of the more tolerable. She never attempted to waste his or Lady Edelgard’s time unnecessarily, and she never shied away from the bloodier side of battle. 

The girl in question fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. “No, my father--my father intends to have me wed soon. As soon as possible.” Bernadetta picked up her tea to take a sip, hands now shaking far worse than before. When she set it back down on the saucer, it made a loud  _ clink _ . “If he can find anyone to marry me.”

“You are the only daughter of one of the leading noble houses in the Empire,” Hubert murmured. “And you possess a Crest. Why would he have difficulty finding a match for you?”

“Because I’m such a nuisance,” Bernadetta said immediately. Hubert had no time to react to that, because one she had started, she couldn’t stop herself from going on. “I can’t obey a simple order, I make too much noise, I always speak out of turn, I state my opinions too freely, I can’t cook a proper meal, my embroidery is passable at best and nothing that would please a husband, and also the dolls I make are childish, I like gardening but ladies aren’t supposed to get dirty, and they’re not supposed to keep spiders as pets either, and I’m too short and my hips are too small for pregnancy so I’ll probably die in childbirth!”

She gasped in a great deal of air then, as she had barely breathed during her tirade. Red-faced and wild-eyed, Bernadetta was clearly terrified, repeating words that had left a worn groove into her estimation of herself. 

The Professor was right.

Hubert, for his part, realized too late that his mouth was open slightly in shock. He closed it. “I see.” Count Varley needed to die. He hadn’t lied when the Professor approached him on the subject, but he was a target of higher standing than usual. Hubert would need to plan carefully. The Professor might even have some useful suggestions for that, she was so very good at killing people--

“ _ I’m sorry _ !” cried Bernadetta, forcing him out of his thoughts. “I’m so sorry, I’m so worthless, I’m--” and she got up and fled. 

Hubert remained seated. There was no need to distress her further by chasing after her. He’d gotten what he’d wanted. 

He needed to retreat and think through the options. Leaving Count Varley alive was not one of them. Unthinkingly, he took a sip of tea. Wincing at the too-sweet taste, he set the cup down. “Ugh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm approaching these chapters as like support convos. i'm not used to writing chapters this short, buuuut i also have never posted two days in a row before, so we'll see what happens

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter @seladorie for some quality fe3h shitposting


End file.
